Not One of Us
by Khell
Summary: This story was inspired by the song "Not One of Us" and a wonderful video to that song I found on Youtube. Thanks, moony911! Contains spoilers for "Deathly Hallows". Chapter 1: Snape's POV - Chapter 2: McGonagall's POV
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of these characters. They're all JKR's. I only like to play with them. ;)

**Note:** Several reviewers wrote that they hope I'll continue this story. Thank you very much for this huge compliment! Well - I do have an idea for turning this "two-shot" into a whole story. However, if I ever write that continuation, I won't put it up here but will add it as an extra story. I think it's quite perfect (well, as perfect as I can get it ...) as it is. If I do write a continuation, I'll give it a title that'll make it perfectly clear it's this story here continued.

*****

**Not One of Us**

**Severus Snape**

He didn't know what had been the final straw. McGonagall's glare? Flitwick's sneer? The way Hagrid pointedly kept ignoring him? Sprout's and Hooch's whispers behind his back? He had endured it for months, ever since he had returned to Hogwarts as headmaster. Endured it without even raising an eyebrow or twitching a finger. Sat through all of it in stony silence. But now, he suddenly found he couldn't take it any longer. He dropped his knife and fork on his plate with a loud clatter and pushed his chair back so forcefully it almost tipped over. Some of the students sitting close to the teachers' table jumped and stared at him, without a doubt waiting for some kind of outburst. To his right, McGonagall and Flitwick stopped their half whispered conversation and looked at him, too, the witch with a glare, the wizard with a frown.

He ignored them just as he ignored the students' wary glances when he strode down the length of the Great Hall to leave, his robe billowing around him like a dark cloud.

He didn't pay attention where he went. He was too busy trying to control his thoughts that were spinning in his mind like one of those strange silvery gadgets Albus had always kept in his office. His hands clenched into fists. How dare they! How dare they treat him like that, like a criminal - a traitor.

_Well, that's exactly what they think you are. Be grateful for it - if they knew the truth, you'd be dead by now._

He rushed on, down another corridor without really recognising where he was. They didn't know, no. To them, he was the man who had murdered Albus Dumbledore. The one who had betrayed them. They despised him - they hated him - and they didn't hesitate to show it, day after day after day. Not too openly, of course, lest he take out his anger on the students.

_They really think I'd ever harm a student? Don't they know me any better than that? I'm not the Dark Lord, dammit!_

It was only small things. Looks. Whispers. Barely disguised barbs when they deemed to speak to him. How they suddenly fell silent whenever he entered a room, walking in on one of their little gatherings.

Somewhere at the back of his mind he registered that he was hurtling up a staircase, slightly out of breath.

Yes, fine, he had agreed to all of this. He had promised Dumbledore to do it, to go through with it, no matter what. And that was what he had to do now, go through with it at all costs. But he had thought it would be easier. Easier to ignore them. What they said - what they did. He had managed during his school time, hadn't he?

_But that was so long ago ..._

He stopped, catching his breath, when he reached the top of the stairs, finally taking notice of his surroundings.

_The Astronomy Tower. Great. Just perfect._

The very place where it had started. He stepped forward to the ramparts, leaned on the low stone wall, looked down. He barely noticed the cold gusts of wind that blew in his face, the chilly night air. The very spot where Dumbledore hat met his end.

_Curse you, Albus. How could you ask that of me?_

True, he had walked into this with his eyes open, fully aware of the consequences. Or so he had thought. But the reality of it was something completely different. When he had returned to Hogwarts, the other teachers - minus the Carrows who had arrived two days later - had been waiting for him, headed by Minerva McGonagall. She had stepped forward, had looked him straight in the eye and spat one word at him - one of the few she had exchanged with him in all those months.

"Murderer", she had called him.

He laughed. It sounded almost like Voldemort's demented cackle.

_You have no idea, Minerva._

No idea how much it cost him to face them every day. Slip on the mask of the black-hearted murderer they thought him to be. Pretend he didn't care that he was no longer one of them.

_No _longer_ one of them? _He gave another short, bitter laugh. _Wrong._

He had never been one of them. No one had ever trusted him, wanted him to be part of the Order - no one except for Dumbledore. For his sake, they had tolerated him. But he had always been the one they doubted. The one standing in the shadows, just outside their circle, like a child wistfully watching others, waiting to be invited to play. Even Black and the werewolf had been more welcome than him.

Him who had risked more than anyone else in this war. His life - his sanity. If the Dark Lord ever found out. If he ever found out, there would be nothing left for him but endless suffering. The Dark Lord knew how to treat traitors, how to keep them alive. For a very long time.

_If they only knew -_

He snorted. If they knew, it wouldn't change a thing. Well, it's only fair, after what he did. He could hear it as clearly as if someone really had said it. He could see their thoughts on their faces, read them like an open book. Death Eater. Traitor. Coward.

Amazing how much that hurt, even though he had never really considered any of them his friend. It made him want to scream. Howl like a crazed animal.

_Do you know what this is doing to me, Albus? Do you know? Do you even care? No, you don't, do you? All you care about is your great plan and that everything works out according to it._

He dug is fingernails in the cracks between the ramparts' cold, rough stones.

_Calm down. Get a grip on yourself. Don't crack up now. You have to see it through. There's no way out of this._

He took in a deep breath. And another one. See it through, yes. If he was lucky, he might even live to see the end of this.

Something moved in the shadows behind him. He turned his head just enough so that he could see the area from the corner of his eye. He caught sight of a strip of tartan-coloured robe and smirked.

"Minerva. Come to see if you could catch me on my own and get rid of me?"

She stepped forward. Her face was still cast in shadows but her eyes glittered. She always had seemed to like him just a bit more than the others - before he had killed Dumbledore. Now, she despised him just as much as the others and made no effort to hide it. She took another step towards him.

"Vold- he would punish me by hurting my students," she said hoarsely, "Or else -"

He shrugged. "It could have been an accident. We're all alone up here. Nobody would ever know ..."

Another step closer. He watched her from behind a curtain of black greasy hair. How she lifted her hand. Reached for the wand he knew she had stowed away in a hidden pocket. He turned his head, looked down. A long way to fall. She didn't even have to use magic. One good shove -

He waited. Half hoped that it would come. That it all would end here and now.

_Coward._

But nothing happened. A moment passed, then another. She didn't move. He only heard her breathe.

"Don't tempt me, Severus," she finally said so softly he could barely hear it. "I won't murder you - not even though you deserve it."

He threw a quick glance and a thin smile back over his shoulder.

"Ever the noble Gryffindor, aren't you, Minerva?"

He got no answer. But she was still there. He could feel her presence.

He looked down again. One step. Only the ramparts between him and oblivion.

"Would you stop me?" he asked suddenly.

"What?" McGonagall's confused frown was audible in her voice.

"If I stepped forward, threw myself off the tower - would you try to stop me? Or would you just let me fall?"

A pause, notably shorter than the last. Then: "Don't tempt me, Severus."

Her smirk was just as audible as her frown had been.

_Gryffindors. Always wearing their hearts on their sleeves. If she were in my place, she'd be dead already._

"You would, wouldn't you?" He spun round to face her. "Let me throw myself off the tower and do nothing to stop me."

"And why should I?" The humourless little smile on McGonagall's face was wiped out by a look of rage he had never seen with his colleague before. "After what you did, after you killed - murdered -" She choked on the words. "Albus trusted you. He trusted you, and you -"

Severus folded his arms across his chest, wrapping himself tighter in his robe. The cold was starting to get to him, seep through his body, into his very bones. Or was it the look in McGonagall's eyes that chilled him?

_You betrayed him,_ her eyes seemed to say, _you betrayed me._

He quickly looked away, uneasily shifting on his feet. So far, he had managed to avoid facing any of this former comrades-in-arms one on one so as not to have to deal with things like this. Sneers and glares, whispers and unspoken accusations - they had started to get to him, recently, but he could deal with them. He wasn't sure, however, if he could deal with this without giving himself away.

"Don't say you trusted me," he said, willing his voice to remain firm, tinged with his usual venom.

_None of them ever trusted you, remember? You were never really one of them._

But now, facing McGonagall who was looking at him with a mix of hatred and sadness in her eyes, he found it hard to recall what he had been feeling only a few minutes ago.

"I trusted Albus' judgement. And so, one could say that yes, I trusted you, too." That cold smile again. "More the fool I."

Severus closed his eyes, took in a deep breath. So one of them had trusted him. He remembered now. Minerva, like Dumbledore, had never voiced any doubt about anything he had reported to the Order. Moody, Black, Lupin, even the good-natured Weasleys had always listened to him with more or less suspicion, some openly speaking their doubts, some remaining silent but giving him a certain kind of look. But she had never looked at him like that, had she?

_Damn._

"I did what I did," he said slowly, grateful that his voice wasn't shaking as badly as he was shaking inside, "And if I could turn back time, I'd do it all over again, exactly the same as the first time."

At his last words, he straightened and opened his eyes again. McGonagall took a step back and stared at him, appalled.

"Severus Snape -" she gasped.

He glared at her, one of his infamous glares that almost rivalled a basilisk's stare, and swished past her, still tightly wrapped in his robe. He had to get away before he really did crack up and grabbed her and shook her and shouted the truth in her face. Dumbledore's clever plan. His own role in it - a chesspiece being drawn over the board. A pawn to be sacrificed to save the queen. He wanted McGonagall to know - he wanted someone to know, someone who wasn't a portrait or a house elf. Just one single person. One person to still believe in him, that was all he wanted. But he couldn't. He mustn't. Not with the Carrows here to keep an eye on him. For that was why they had been appointed as teachers. Ironically, the Dark Lord didn't trust him entirely, either. Oh, he had risen high in Voldemort's favour after killing Dumbledore. But that paranoid maniac didn't trust anyone, not even Bellatrix Lestrange with all her grovelling and eagerly following his every command. No, if he told McGonagall and she accidentally let something slip or treated him with any less contempt, the Carrows would find out and everything would be ruined.

He stopped at the top of the stairs. But -

_Give her something to think about, maybe?_

She hadn't followed him. At least, he hadn't heard her move.

_Either she's still rooted to the spot in shock or she's trying to make up her mind whether to push me down the stairs or not._

"I do admit that I killed Albus Dumbledore, "he said slowly, without turning round, "But I did _not_ murder him."

McGonagall gave a disgusted snort. "Words. What's the big difference?"

"No big difference, Minerva. A very small one. Small but important."

Without waiting for an answer, he hurried down the stairs. Leave her to think about that. Maybe she would figure it out. She wasn't one of those student dunderheads, after all. And clever, even though she was a Gryffindor. Yes, maybe she would figure it out. And start to doubt. To wonder. And that was all he could ask for in his current position - the benefit of doubt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of these characters. They're all JKR's. I only like to play with them. ;)

*****

**Not One of Us**

**Minerva McGonagall**

There he was. The traitor. The murderer. Standing hunched over the rampart, looking down. A gust of wind blew in his face, whipping strands of black hair around his head.

When he suddenly had rushed from the Great Hall, Minerva had followed Snape to make sure he didn't hex any poor student who was unlucky enough to come across him. She didn't know why she had kept following him up to the Astronomy Tower, though. It wasn't very likely he'd meet a student here. Here at the scene of his crime. But now that she was here, she found she was in no hurry to leave again. Instead, she stayed, hidden in the shadows, watching him. So close to the edge. One good push and -

Suddenly, he threw his head back and laughed, a high-pitched almost mad sound that startled her and made her jump.

_Merlin's beard, he's losing it._

Not that she was afraid of him, oh no. But maybe it would be better to leave now. If he really had gone mad, if he saw her, thought she was spying on him - Once, she had thought she knew him but now, there was no telling what he might do if he caught her secretly watching him. Not that she cared, at least not as far as she was concerned. But if something happened to her, then who would protect the students? In the current situation, there was little enough _she_ could do. She couldn't openly oppose the Carrows, who did their best to hurt and humiliate the students. Not if she didn't want to be sacked - or worse. Filius, Pomona, Hagrid, Rolande, even Poppy, they all depended on her. No, she couldn't run afoul of the Carrows, as much as she would have loved to teach them a thing or two, and not of Snape, either.

Snape. He was still standing there, obviously lost in thought. She wondered what was going on in his mind - and then, she wondered whether she really cared. Why should she want to know what that traitor was thinking?

_Maybe because he used to be one of us?_ a tiny little voice whispered in her mind.

Nonsense. She just barely stopped herself from shaking her head. Snape had never been one of them, of the Order. Not really. He had only pretended to be on their side while, in truth, he had been working for Voldemort all the time.

_Better go, Minerva,_ she told herself, _Go before he notices you. Who knows what he's capable of if he catches me up here with no one else around_.

She turned to leave but froze when Snape moved his head. She held her breath. Had he seen her?

"Minerva. Come to see if you could catch me on my own and get rid of me?"

His voice was dangerously low and silky, with just the tiniest hint of a steely edge showing.

She took a step forward. Get rid of him? What an appealing thought. But the consequences -

"Vold- he would punish me by hurting my students. Or else -"

_Or else I might just do it, you murderer._

Snape shrugged. He wasn't looking at her but not quite looking away, either. "It could have been an accident. We're all alone up here. Nobody would ever know ..."

Almost against her will, she found herself taking another step towards him. Nobody would ever know. Slowly, as if in a dream, she lifted her hand to the hidden pocket that held her wand. Nobody would ever know and there would be one Death Eater less to worry about. He turned his head away from her, taunting her, daring her to do it. And why shouldn't she? Why not, after all he had done?

_No. No, you won't. Kill him in a fair duel if you have to. Kill him while he's facing you, while he has a chance of defending himself. But not like this. He's the murderer, not you. You're better than that._

"Don't tempt me, Severus," she whispered, lowering her hand again. "I won't murder you - not even though you deserve it."

He gave her a quick glance over his shoulder and one of his mocking almost-smiles. "Ever the noble Gryffindor, aren't you, Minerva?"

She didn't answer. He returned his attention to the black abyss before him. Her cue to leave, she guessed. But she stayed, just out of spite, to annoy him.

"Would you stop me?" he asked suddenly.

Minerva frowned. "What?"

_Stop you from what? Harming the students? Killing another of my friends? Of course I would._

"If I stepped forward, threw myself off the tower - would you try to stop me? Or would you just let me fall?"

_Threw yourself off the tower? What's that, Severus? Remorse? Or are you testing me?_

Or course, it wasn't remorse. He was headmaster of Hogwarts, Voldemort's right-hand-man - what else could he possibly wish for? No, he wouldn't throw himself off this tower any more than Albus Dumbledore would return from the dead. She smirked.

"Don't tempt me, Severus."

"You would, wouldn't you?" He spun round to face her, his black eyes glittering. "Let me throw myself off the tower and do nothing to stop me."

"And why should I?" Of course, she wouldn't stop him. She could barely stop herself from giving him a good, hard shove. Really, the nerve of that man.

"After what you did, after you killed - murdered -" She couldn't say it. "Albus trusted you. He trusted you and you -"

Her voice cracked. He hated herself for showing him such weakness. She did her best to glare at him, stare him down as she had done when she still had been his teacher so many years ago. It still seemed to work. At least judging from how he looked away and shifted on his feet. Almost like the student he had once been.

"Don't say you trusted me," he said, his tone venomous as usual.

_Trusted you? Of course I trusted you. You were one of us - or so I thought._

He seemed to be waiting for an answer. Very well, she would give him one.

"I trusted Albus judgement. And so, one could say that yes, I trusted you, too. More the fool I."

She tried to keep the bitterness from her voice. After all, she should have known. Moody had always been suspicious of Snape. And Sirius. They were both dead now. Not by Snape's hand but still - She frowned. Why was he closing his eyes?

_Can't face me any longer, Severus? Can't face the truth? Can't face what you've thrown away to rise in the favour of your precious Dark Lord?_

"I did what I did," he said slowly, his voice sounding cold, betraying no emotion. "And if I could turn back time, I'd do it all over again, exactly the same as the first time."

His eyes flew open. He shot her a murderous look, so full of hatred that in spite of herself she took a step back.

"Severus Snape -" she gasped.

He gave her another glare and swished past her. She remained where she was, too shocked to move.

_You really hated him that much? Even after all he did for you, after giving you a second chance?_

No, impossible. No one could be so lost to all that was good and right and - But he was, wasn't he? He had just proven it. And they had trusted him. _She_ had trusted him, had tried to make him feel welcome here at Hogwarts, in the Order. She turned on her heel.

_Push him._ That tiny little voice again, only this time it was filled with rage. _Push him down the stairs. Kill him. End it here and now - before he kills someone else. The man is mad. Everyone who can hate so deeply -_

Se abruptly stopped that train of thoughts when Snape paused at the top of the stairs, remembering that he was just as accomplished at Legilimency as he was at Occlumency. And that his skills at both probably were second only to Voldemort. What if he had read her thoughts? As accomplished as he was, did he even have to maintain eye-contact? Or had his dark master taught him -

"I do admit that I killed Albus Dumbledore", he said slowly, without turning at her, "but I did _not_ murder him."

Minerva gave a disgusted snort. "Words. What's the big difference?"

"Not a big difference, Minerva. A very small one. Small but important."

He stood there for another moment, then hurried down the stairs. Minerva stayed, looking after him, puzzled.

_A difference? Small but important? What do you mean, Severus?_

Did it matter? Murder - kill - it was all the same. Albus was dead and Snape was to blame for it. He had said so himself - had even admitted he would do it again.

But his voice - She thought she had heard something in his voice. As if he had added an inaudible "Think about it". Or had she just imagined that?

_Probably._

And still -

_How can you kill someone without murdering him?_

Impossible. Or - was it really? Maybe, depending on the circumstances -

_No. Stop it. He's trying to confuse you._

But why? Why? So that she would start to doubt? Hesitate for the split second he needed to kill her when they were finally facing each other in a proper duel?

_Well, I won't fall for that, Severus Snape. Most surely not._

However, when she finally left the Astronomy Tower, she knew she wouldn't be able to banish this new puzzle from her mind completely anytime soon.


End file.
